


Shut Up, You Love Me

by Nyxierose



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Normal Life, F/M, Road Trips
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-12
Updated: 2014-10-12
Packaged: 2018-02-20 22:07:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,167
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2444855
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nyxierose/pseuds/Nyxierose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The inevitable Westallen roadtrip fluff. In which Barry is easily amused and Iris is done with it (but she loves him, she does).</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shut Up, You Love Me

"There is no way this can _possibly_ go wrong."

For what feels like the hundredth time that morning, Iris West rolls her eyes. "Are you really that oblivious to your abilities?"

"It's us, two days on the road, your cousin's wedding, and two _more_ days on the road. Totally simple."

Simple? _Really_? Some days Iris wonders why she loves that boy… and then she remembers he's been her best friend since second grade, he has a good heart and hilariously terrible follow-through, and… he's easily amused and doesn't know when to shut up. The side effects of dating Barry Allen are usually worth the perks, but if both of them survive the next week, she's going to be amazed. (Really, if he'd just listened to her and agreed to put up a smidge more money for plane tickets…)

"You're lucky I love you," she says, slipping into the driver's seat of the car.

"Darn right I am," he replies, kissing the tip of her nose before walking around to his side. "Luckiest man alive."

\--------

They have been on the road for approximately two hours when Iris starts feeling her patience disappear. Two hours, they are in what can only be described as the middle of fuck nowhere, and as per usual, Barry has found the most irritating song on the radio and is singing along. At full volume. Which, y'know, wouldn't be so bad if he actually _could_ sing. Which he can't. And unfortunately for his long-suffering girlfriend, he either doesn't know this little fact about himself or doesn't care. (Or both. Probably both.)

After a howl that makes Iris very thankful the car's pretty well soundproof and nearby canines can't hear the human trying to hit their vocal ranges, she turns the radio off. "Okay, for the sake of what remains of my sanity, I get music control for the rest of the trip."

"Ris, the _point_ of this stuff is that it's trashy. But it's _fun_."

"The music isn't the problem," she replies. "The fact that you think you can hit the same notes as Ariana Grande - who I'm not entirely sure is even human - _is_. I didn't pack earplugs on this trip, remember?"

"You're no fun."

"I'm right. That wins."

Still, at the next exit, they end up at a drugstore and Iris buys an unnecessarily high number of earplugs. Just in case. Because sooner or later, her resolve _will_ stop, and it's best to be prepared before her dearest darling decides to butcher a Katy Perry song…

\--------

"Romeo taaaake me somewhere we can be alone-"

Two more exits, Iris reminds herself. Two more exits and then they are pulling over and spending the night in a cheap motel and so help her she is going to _sleep_ and in the morning she will get the biggest coffee possible and all will be right with the world. Until then, if her precious disaster of a boyfriend wants to sing Taylor Swift in a key that should not be physically possible, that's _his_ set of questionable life choices.

\--------

"Iris. Iris. Weren't we supposed to leave half an hour ago?"

"Huh?" She blinks, looks at the alarm clock, tries to stay calm because holy crap she is not lucid enough for this. "I hate when you're right. Gimme five minutes. We can still do this."

"Wedding's in five hours, right?"

"I'm the daughter of a cop," she reminds him, pulling off her t-shirt and grabbing a fresh one from her suitcase. "Which means I know how to avoid speed traps. We're going to be fine."

\--------

"Any particular reason you were speeding, ma'am?"

"No sir," Iris mutters, trying to stay as polite as she can. Well, considering she's officially late to her second cousin's wedding, never mind that she hasn't seen Mandy since they were _ten_ , and she looks like a disaster on legs and… ah, screw this, she _really_ needs to rethink her life a little bit.

"We're going to her cousin's wedding," Barry explains from the passenger seat. "It's in an hour. And we're already late. So if you could let us go…"

"You don't look like you're going to a wedding," the officer says, glancing between them. Okay, the boy's wearing a button-down and slacks, but the girl's in a torn t-shirt and jeans and…

"The alarm clock in our hotel room didn't work. She's gonna get ready when we get there. We can pull that off. Probably."

Iris leans over and pulls the wedding invite out of her handbag. "See?"

"Okay, okay. I'll let you off with a warning. This time."

"Thank you so much, officer."

\--------

Changing clothes in a car is not an ideal scenario, but considering it's an outdoor wedding, Iris doesn't exactly trust the cleanliness of the bathrooms so it isn't really a choice. Thank goodness for tinted windows and the fact that she's already wearing the right bra.

"Zip the back of my dress?" she asks, holding her hair back.

Barry leans over and does as instructed. "That good?"

"Yes. Now… shoes?"

A pair of heels lands in her lap. "Those the right ones?"

"Yeah. And we are only twenty minutes late, which means Mandy isn't officially a married woman _yet_."

"You okay?"

"No. Not okay. This is a disaster."

"No it isn't, babe. You look magnificent, we at least _made it_ , and there's still the reception to look forward to. Which… didn't the invite say it's a buffet?"

Iris gives her boyfriend a _look_. "You are so lucky you have a good metabolism."

"Says the girl who barely eats anything."

"Shut up, I eat _enough_."

"C'mon. Let's get out there. Get this over with."

\--------

Dancing is another thing Barry is terrible at. Admittedly, that's not entirely his fault - he's a lanky white boy, it kinda comes with the territory. What _is_ his fault, however, is that he is currently butchering the goddamn Chicken Dance. Which, y'know, should not be possible because that thing was practically _created_ for people who think they're better dancers than they are. But apparently it is, and it's a good thing he's having the time of his life because his girlfriend is Not Amused.

"Am I a bad person if I ask you to never do that again?" she asks when he wanders back to her.

"Nah," he replies, giving her those ridiculous puppy eyes that have made her melt far too many times over far too many ridiculous things. "You'll never be a bad person, Iris. Ever."

"Good. Because if you ever attempt that set of dance moves in public again, I will seriously consider breaking up with you."

"C'mon, you love me."

"Yeah," she replies, pulling him down for a long kiss. "I do."

\--------

Sufficient to say, the trip home is a lot quieter. Well, except for the part where Barry's ipod gets chucked out the window. Iris takes no responsibility for this, but the rationale just might involve some godawful indie song that involves way too much banjo for her tastes…


End file.
